


Arena Fears

by Lykao



Category: GreedFall (Video Game)
Genre: Anxiety, Arguing, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-04
Updated: 2021-02-04
Packaged: 2021-03-15 15:06:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29191260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lykao/pseuds/Lykao
Summary: Vasco fears losing (M) De Sardet in his fight with a Champion in the arena.
Relationships: De Sardet & Vasco (GreedFall), De Sardet/Vasco (GreedFall)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 17





	Arena Fears

_“I must warn ya, he’s a killer.” “Expecting you to last less than a minute.”_ The words kept repeating in his mind. 

While Vasco had no doubt of De Sardet’s skill, the sinking feeling in his gut after those statements from the bookie and then Candy Cane refused to go away. Followed up with the fact he wasn’t even allowed to be in the arena with him.

He’d stayed quiet as they ran around setting up for the fight, but he couldn’t understand the excitement in Petrus’ voice or the confidence in the Legate’s. 

He kept telling himself to remain silent. That everything would be fine. But as he watched De Sardet finish sharpening his sword and the sound of the games master calling his name, Vasco couldn’t hold it in anymore. 

He throws himself at De Sardet, causing the man to drop his sword to hold onto him. Clutching onto his armor, the Captain whispers in his ear, “Don’t do this. Please don’t do this.” 

“I- Vasco it will be alright,” the Legate assures him, stroking his back and holding him close.

“And if it’s not alright?” He demands, his grip tightening. “You’re going to make me watch you die for this?”

“You know my skill, you know I can do this,” he tries to reason. 

“But I don’t know the other man, neither do you. All you know is he kills his opponents, and he’s obviously been a champion this long for a reason.”

“And I won’t be one of them,” he assures Vasco, who’s trying hard to control the trembling in his body. “It’s one fight, then it’ll be over. Please believe in me.” 

“One fight,” Vasco repeats, stepping back from his lover. “I- will try to be supportive.” 

“You don’t have to watch if it’s going to upset you.”

“I’d rather be there than waiting for someone to tell me,” the Naut hisses at him. “Finish this quickly, and let us not speak of it again.” 

De Sardet nods before pressing a kiss to Vasco’s forehead, and motioning for Petrus to take him to the audience. 

“Come my child,” Petrus says as he grasps Vasco’s arm. “Let us get into place and allow him to finish preparing.”

“Ok,” Vasco responds emptily. He glances at his lover one last time before allowing Petrus to pull him away. 

Once they’re in place, Vasco’s mind continues to torment him with that one statement. _“He’s a killer.”_

He tries to calm himself, but it seems useless. The smell of sweat, blood, and alcohol thick in the air mixing with his anxiety make him feel like he’s going to be sick. 

Either his Tempest wins and they continue on their way like normal. Or he’s about to watch the love of his life be slaughtered for sport in front of a crowd of drunk nobles betting on his life. 

If the man killed De Sardet, he’d kill him, Vasco had already decided. Tack, laws, rules, guilds be damned. He’d rather rot in a jail cell than live a life free without him, and with the man who killed his lover walking away. 

The game master starts his introductions. At this point it just sounds like noise, not actual words. 

The champion jumps down into the arena. A bigger man than his Tempest. Not that he’d not fought massive creatures. Hell Vasco had seen him take down a guardian alone the day they met. But it did little to help his anxiety. 

Next De Sardet jumps into the arena, his sword already in his hand. Within seconds they’re both at one another, the sound from clashing of blades echoes through the arena as the people around them cheer. 

“Yeah, cut his head off!” The noble next to Vasco screams, his bottle of whiskey sloshing on to the floor. 

He grimaces at the statement, gripping the barrier tightly to keep himself from punching the spectator. Petrus gives him an apologetic smile before gesturing back at the arena. 

The larger man is obviously stronger. De Sardet was playing to his strengths of agility, but the man had caught him once and thrown him halfway across the arena with a thud. Vasco’s hand immediately snapped to his gun, his finger twitching as he holds it in his grasp. 

The Legate was quickly back on his feet, and right back into his typical flips and handstands to maneuver around the champion. 

Each close brush of the opponents blade has Vasco flinching. Any second could be his Tempest’s last. He’s unable to tear his eyes away from the battle. 

After what seems like an eternity, De Sardet manages to stick the champion through his back, a gasp emanating from the crowd as Vasco finally lets out the breath he’d been holding. The Legate raises his sword in the air before heading toward the exit. 

Vasco quickly races to the entrance, knowing that walk too well. He’d been hurt. 

“See? Told you it would be fine,” his lover assures him, a forced smile clearly on his lips. “Hand out Vasco.”

“What?”

“Give me your hand.” 

Holding his hand out, De Sardet deposits a heavy bag of gold into his palm before stumbling past him to the benches. 

“I- Tempest!” He responds flabbergasted. “You’re obviously wounded, and I’ve spent the last ten minutes watching you nearly die and all you have to say is you’re fine and give me gold?”

“I want you to have it,” he says simply. Grimacing as he sits down. 

“I don’t need gold, I need you!” Vasco seethes at him. He hooks the bag to his belt and drops to his knees tugging at his lover’s boot. “Let me see it.” 

“I’m fine,” he tries to insist, but the angry glare trained on him seems to shut him up. 

Discarding the boot and sock, and rolling back his trousers, Vasco’s faced with a deep gash in his leg. “Tempest,” he breaths out quietly. 

He pulls back his own coat to tear a shred from his shirt to hold against the wound, and shouts over to the Siora for her help. 

As he does his best to stop the bleeding, Siora races over with magic ready. He trades places with her to give her a better view, and instead goes to sit beside him, gripping his hand in his own. 

As Siora sets to healing him, De Sardet rest his head on Vasco’s shoulder, a sigh leaving the Captain’s lips as he leans his own head against his and grips his love’s hand tighter. 

“When you are finished, we should go see Cornelia,” Petrus states as he walks over. 

“Tomorrow,” Vasco snaps out before the Legate can respond. “He’s injured and it’s late.” 

“Of course,” Petrus nods. “Do you want help getting back my child?” 

“No,” he responds softly. “Siora will finish up and Vasco will make sure I make it back. You can head out.” 

“As you wish,” the Bishop nods and takes his exits. 

Vasco mutters under his breath, bringing a chuckle from the man beside him. “I’m fine.” 

“Are you?” 

“He is,” Siora responds cleaning the rest of the blood from his leg. All that’s left is a long angry looking scar where the wound once was. “But you need rest.”

“You are a miracle worker,” De Sardet thanks her, Vasco sending her a quick nod and smile. 

“Let us get back then,” the captain says, helping put his lover’s arm across his shoulders, and his own arm around the man’s back. “Don’t put pressure on it.” 

“I can still-“ he tries to argue but once again stops at the glare he receives. 

Siora helps the two of them out of the fighting pit and up the stairs of the basement before commenting she will hang back on their walk back. “So you two may talk.” 

Vasco nods and continues on shouldering most of the weight. 

“So…” De Sardet says after a few minutes of walking. 

“I’m angry, anxious, stressed, upset, and fucking relieved,” Vasco interrupts. “I could have fucking lost you just so Petrus could anger a noble.” 

“It should help Constantin,” the Legate insists. 

“Perhaps, or it was a non-existent problem the two of you were trying to solve for him. He’s a governor, I understand he’s your cousin but you can’t intervene on everything.” 

De Sardet goes quiet at that, and they continue the walk in silence. Reaching the home, Vasco helps him through the door, then up the stairs with the help of Kurt who jumped from his chair. 

“I’ve got the rest handled,” Vasco tells Kurt after they’ve help De Sardet to a chair. 

Kurt leaves with a nod, and Vasco starts removing the Legate’s coat and various pieces of armor. Once all his upper armor is removed, he drops to his knees to get his boots off once again. 

Once he’s stripped to his underclothes, Vasco goes downstairs to retrieve the water for a bath. 

When he re-enters the room, he notices De Sardet examining his leg. 

“How is the pain?” He asks as he pours the water in the tub. 

“Manageable,” the Legate responds softly. “Did you really believe I would not win that fight?” 

“I… don’t know,” Vasco answers carefully, helping De Sardet into the tub as he speaks. “You are skilled, but it was reckless.” 

“We live reckless lives Vasco,” he answers, grimacing as he moves his leg to make it comfortable in the small space.

“No, we live dangerous lives. It’s dangerous enough without reckless and nearly pointless fights that could leave you killed with little to no good reason.”

“I thought I could win.” 

“That’s the problem,” Vasco snaps back, “You thought about how you felt and how Petrus felt. You didn’t think about what would happen if you didn’t win. How Constantin would feel; how Kurt, Aphra, and Siora would feel. How I would feel watching you be murdered in front of me with nothing I could do, in the name of pissing off a noble and a sack of gold.” 

“It wasn’t for just that!” he insists. “If this could even slightly help Constantin isn’t it worth it?” 

“De Sardet don’t you just come into my life and show me love, show me everything I could feel, give me more happiness than I’ve had in my entire fucking life then throw your life away!” He hisses at him angrily. “If you were going to so casually toss away your life, you should have never let me get close to you.”

De Sardet goes silent once again at that, and Vasco sighs, pulling the tie from his lover’s hair and beginning to wet it.

Putting the soap in his hands, he runs his fingers through the hair deftly, lathering it in the tension filled silence.

“ _‘When you have swam in the sea, a lake will no longer do. Everyone else was a pond, but the ocean was always you,’_ ” Vasco recites softly. 

“What?” 

“I’m scared to lose you Tempest,” he admits. “Completely and utterly terrified. The idea of going back to life how it was before after having known this, having known you…”

“Shut your eyes,” he commands, starting to rinse the soap from his hair. 

“I’m sorry,” De Sardet says after he’s told he can open his eyes. “I… really didn’t think. And that wasn’t fair to you. Come here.”

Vasco leans in closer, and the Legate gently cups his jaw and pulls him in to give him a gentle kiss, “I will do better.” 

“I believe you’ll try. Don’t promise what you can’t do,” his gaze drifts down to the water in the tub.

“Hey, look at me,” De Sardet states, carefully tilting his lover’s face up toward him. “We’ll discuss these things before I jump into them. I won’t rush into it without listening to how you feel. Actually listening.” 

“That’s all I ask,” Vasco sighs, leaning his head into De Sardet’s wet palm against his face. “I’m going down with this ship Tempest, just don’t sink it this quickly.” 

“That won’t do,” he teases, his thumb running along one of Vasco’s tattoos. “This tattoo says you’ve not lost a single crew member. I wouldn’t want to make a liar out of your face.” 

“Oh shut up.”

“I love you too Vasco.” 

**Author's Note:**

> Poem quote from Tyler Knott Gregson


End file.
